The lives they left behind
by Syblime
Summary: What were the boys doing in 2063 when Jeff came up with the idea of an international rescue service? First T-Bird fic
1. Chapter 1

_Well, I'll start with hello! This is my first Thunderbirds fic, other than a crossover, so I'm a bit nervous! I occaisonally write Downton Abbey fics but this is my first time venturing completely out of that zone!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds. I do own a copy of Shane Rimmer's autobiography, but that's probably as close as I'll get!_

_Hope you enjoy it. :)_

* * *

"Scott darling," Scott rolled his eyes, before looking up and forcing a smile for the woman in the doorway of his office. The pretty blond receptionist had been flirting with him ever since she'd found out that he was single last Christmas. "Telephone for you. It's your father." Scott frowned.

"He doesn't normally call me at work." He mused out loud.

"Shall I tell him you're busy?" She offered enthusiastically.

"No. I'll take the call. Thank you, Edna." She smiled at him again. Sickly sweet. He sighed, irritated by her persistence, before picking up the phone. "Hi dad."

* * *

John hung up his trench coat on the stand in the hallway of his flat and was leafing through the letters which had been lying on the doormat when the phone rang. He went into the kitchen, placed the mail on the counter, then realised he'd left the phone in the other room. The living room was barely visible under the various piles of books. John often questioned whether he had more books at home or at work, and considering he worked in a library, it was a close contest. Pushing more books aside he found the phone and answered it.

"Hi dad."

* * *

Virgil had been commissioned by the gallery to produce a painting for a customer. In his mind this was one of the perks of the job. He was supplied with a canvas and good quality oil paints, as opposed to acrylics which he normally played around with. On top of which he was getting paid to do it. Obviously the customer had a say in what they wanted, but the rest was up to him. The phone continued to ring. Virgil refreshed the red on his brush and continued applying it to the canvas. He was in his element.

_You have reached the voicemail of Virgil Tracy. Please leave a message._

* * *

Gordon was pinning some rather nice purple corduroy to the inside of the flares he was preparing for his 70's cat walk project, when his phone rang. He was in his last year of university and had opted to take a course in fashion design alongside his degree in Oceanography. Naturally he wanted to specialise in swimwear, but he had to pass the course first. Luckily his flat mate, Vincent, had passed a similar course in Ireland and could offer advice. Gordon tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and waited for a response as he continued to work with the fabric.

* * *

"Oh, hi dad!" Alan took the call and flopped down on his bed. "Dad," Alan continued before the older man had the chance to speak, "could you maybe send some more money, 'cos I sort of spent what you gave me for the rent on other stuff. But now the rent is due."

It was at that point a group of Alan's mates burst into the room, proposing an afternoon on the town. He concentrated on his father's frustrated reply and something about sending him to live with Scott being cheaper. Alan interrupted again, grabbed a jacket, said goodbye and hung up, before following his friends into the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 1 was more of an introduction, so I'll let you have chapter 2 as well._

_Vincent is Allen Leech's character from Cowboys and Angels. I have just stolen him for the purpose of this story. (And Gordon fans, please don't kill me?!)_

_Enjoy :)_

* * *

After the call Scott loosened his tie and leaned back in the chair. His father's news had certainly got him thinking. He'd spent two years in New York, talking people out of some ridiculous situations and, if he was honest with himself, he was bored. Being cooped up in an office didn't suit him. Not really. He'd been longing for adventure and his father may well have found the answer. He looked at his watch. In half an hour he could leave. In the mean time he ought to get on with the paperwork piled in front of him. Scott ran a hand through his dark hair. The phone call had distracted him. His thoughts kept drifting to the rescue service his father wanted to create. At five o'clock he made his way out of the office. A few colleagues wished him a goodnight as he passed, but Scott was focussed on getting out of there. He'd been 'Mr Tracy' for long enough today. Breathing a sigh of relief as he finally got outside; Scott walked round to the car park, jumped into his silver 1960's Ford Thunderbird and drove straight to John's apartment. Receiving no answer from the actual flat, Scott climbed the stairs to the roof of the building. He leaned against the doorway to the stairwell and watched his brother gaze through the telescope.

"I wondered when you'd show up." John said after a few moments.

"Oh." Scott muttered absentmindedly. It was common knowledge that when Scott had something on his mind, he'd end up visiting one of his brothers. John had seen him quite a lot over the past few years.

"You got dad's call then?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking of nothing else since." Scott admitted.

"Scott, he's only found an Island. It doesn't mean the whole project is go yet."

"It still changes things."

John sighed. "Do you want a drink?" He led the way back down the stairs and into the little flat. "Coffee, black, two sugars?" John verified. Scott nodded looking around the kitchen which, like the rest of the place, had piles of books covering the surfaces.

"How do you know where anything is in here?" Scott asked good-humouredly. John frowned at his older brother, but was quickly distracted due to Gordon pushing in.

"John, I need your hair straighteners. I know you own some. There's no way you could keep that style without any." He called through the house.

"Oh no you don't." John muttered before shoving the kettle at Scott and running after his younger brother. "Gordon! What happened to yours?"

"They blew up."

Scott couldn't help but grin at his brothers, when a voice startled him.

"Hi. You must be the oldest Tracy." He said in a broad Irish accent. "I've met John before and Gordon said the other two live in Denver."

"Yeah, that's right. Who are you?" Scott asked.

The other man laughed before extending a hand for Scott to shake. "Vincent. I'm Gordon's flatmate." As they shook hands, something in the way Vincent was looking at him reminded Scott of the receptionist from work. He found it rather alarming, so he was quite relieved when Gordon bounded back into the room.

"We're in luck. White ghds. I knew we could count on John!"

"Gordon, if you break those I will personally see that your death is an unpleasant one." John threatened. Gordon just laughed at his possessive older brother, who then had to search for the phone again as it made itself known.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Vincent asked Scott.

"I'm a lawyer."

Gordon groaned. "Why does everyone I ever introduce to my family immediately fall for Scott?"

"Yep, and Gordon's here too." John walked back in, talking on the phone. "Yes we've heard from dad. How come you've only just got the message?" A smile spread across John's features. "Of course you were painting."

"Virgil!" Gordon practically squealed. He snatched the phone off John. "Hey Virgil, I'm putting you on video call so you can meet Vincent." Any objections were ignored as Gordon pressed a load of buttons without any success until Virgil's paint streaked profile finally appeared on the screen. Gordon enthusiastically made his introduction and waited for Virgil's response. Which never came.

"How the hell'd you put it on silent?" John moaned, commandeering his phone back and frowning at it.

"Are all your brothers good looking?" Vincent playfully asked Gordon.

"Nah, just me."

"Virgil? Virgil can you hear me?" John was practically yelling at the phone. "Gordon, you've killed my phone. Give me my straighteners back now!"

"Right we're going." Gordon grabbed his flatmate and pulled him out of the room. "Laters!"

"Nice meeting you, Scott." Vincent called back before the door slammed. John rolled his eyes, walked into the living room and flopped sulkily down on the sofa. Scott followed him but moved to the window.

"Does he seriously still have that Beetle?" he asked in surprise, as he watched the car pull away.

"Why not? You still have your ancient pile of scrap metal."

"The Tbird's a classic." Scott shot back defensively. John scoffed at that. "Ask dad."

"Yes, I know, he agrees with you that it holds some value. Now Scott, be a dear and fetch your little brother another herbal tea?" He held out his lilac mug.

"I suppose you want your pipe and slippers with that, do you?" He said playfully taking the cup. John lobbed a cushion at Scott's retreating form, which only resulted in more laughter. "So, what do you think it'll be like?" Scott reappeared in the doorway, while he waited for the kettle.

"What, the tea? Questionable if you're making it." John teased.

Scott threw the discarded cushion back at the blond. "I meant the Island."

"Oh. Hot probably. Dad did say south pacific."

"What about the house? None of us know anything about buildings." Scott continued.

"Grandma will probably have a say in that. And Gordon and Virgil between them could probably master interior design."

"And what about the equipment?"

"Scott, just drop it!" John interrupted. "It's only an Island."

"Aren't you worried though?" Scott asked.

"Of course I am. Gordon has borrowed my ghds. If he doesn't destroy them, he'll turn up here having burnt his apartment down or something. Dad calling up to say he's found an Island is pretty small in comparison." Scott frowned at his brother and reluctantly went back to the kitchen. "Look, if you are really that bothered go and talk to dad." John appeared silently behind him. "He's the only one who knows exactly what's going on, but I'm sure he'll send the plans for all of us to look over before he goes ahead on anything." John grinned. "And I'd bet you ten dollars that you'll be the first one he contacts."

John's plan worked as Scott smiled. "Nah, Virgil is the one with the degree in mechanical engineering."

"Ten dollars?" John asked again.

"Alright. I'd better be going now though."

"Why? What did you put in my tea?"

"Nothing."

"Scott?"

"Bye John." He said cheerfully and quickly left.

"Damn it." John muttered to himself in the returned peace.


	3. Chapter 3

_Wow! Thank you so much for the interest in this story. I was really quite amazed! :)_

* * *

A few weeks later Scott opened his front door to find Jeff on the doorstep holding a briefcase and an overnight travel bag.

"Father?"

"Hello son. Good to see you've still got the Thunderbird." Jeff said, stepping into the house and leaving Scott scowling at the street. He shut the door and followed his father into the kitchen. "Now, these are the plans for the base." Jeff got straight to the point. "I knew you'd want to see them, but I've already spoken with a few people and this looks like the best bet. I've found someone to design all the craft. He's given me a couple of rough sketches for you of your ship. As a lawyer you're most suited to being first on the scene. You can gather any missing information and try and get the local people to co-operate." Jeff paused. His son was looking longingly at the pencil sketch of the craft.

"She's beautiful." Scott muttered eventually.

Jeff laughed. "And fast. That's why I've got you a place with the US air force."

"What?" Scott asked, shocked.

"You need some experience, son. The organisation is going to have some of the most advanced equipment in the world, when that boy is finished. If you can't even fly a plane, I don't see much hope for you."

Scott wanted to protest, but he saw the logic and truth in his father's words. "Yes sir."

"Here's the paper work – where to go and when etc. You'll have to give notice at your job, won't you?" Scott nodded. "They'll be sorry to see you go, but I think the air force will be good for you. I'll leave all this here for you to look at, but I need to go and break the news to John."

"He might not be home yet." Scott countered. "They have a book club until 9.00 on a Thursday."

Jeff looked at his watch. "Then I'll try Gordon first."

~X~

Jeff was more or less prepared for whatever state Gordon may have answered the door in. However he was not prepared for someone else to answer the door. Vincent was also unsure of how to react to the very official looking man on the doorstep.

"Is Gordon here?" Jeff finally asked.

"He's just in the shower." Vincent answered, his accent think. "Would you like to wait inside, sir?"

"Thank you." Jeff followed Vincent into the flat, warily eyeing a number of mannequins that stood proudly in a variety of colours. The two continued to stand in an awkward silence until Gordon bounded in, a towel wrapped round his waist and his hair still dripping wet.

"Dad!" He stopped suddenly.

"Gordon."

"I… I was just taking a shower." The usually confident ginger stuttered.

"Yes, I can see that. Gordon, why don't you go and put some clothes on and then we can talk."

"Yes sir." The two students hurried out of the room, leaving Jeff to try and find a space to sit amongst the numerous cushions on the sofa.

"Is your… um… friend still here?" Jeff asked when Gordon sheepishly reappeared.

"Yes sir, Vincent lives here."

The Tracy patriarch was still in shock. "Does he, um, pay rent?"

"Yes, we've split it between us." The awkwardness of the conversation grew.

"Right."

"Shall I introduce you?" Gordon asked hopefully. Jeff raised an eyebrow, but found he couldn't reject the puppy eyed look his son was giving him. He nodded and Gordon's face lit up as he once more raced out of the room. Jeff, not for the first time, wished his wife was with him. She had always been so much better at dealing with this sort of thing. "Dad," the two boys returned hand in hand, "this is Vincent, my boyfriend."

Jeff shook hands with the Irishman, who still looked nervous. "Nice to meet you. Now, Vincent, would you mind leaving me to have a private word with my son? It shouldn't take long. You could go for a coffee."

"Dad!" Gordon moaned.

"What leave the apartment?"

"Yes. Only ten minutes or so." The boys exchanged another confused glance and Vincent left. Once he'd heard the door, Jeff remained silent for a few moments longer, before placing his briefcase on the coffee table and pulling another pencil sketch from it. "This will be your craft. She's the smallest of the lot, but still pretty fast."

"Hmmm…"

"What's wrong?"

"There's just… something." Jeff frowned as Gordon grabbed some tracing paper and coloured pencils.

"Gordon, the boy who designed all the machines is an absolute genius and he assured me that all the designs were top notch."

"Yeah well, top notch it may be, but it's lacking in character." Gordon added a large fin to the top of the vessel and started adding stripes in various places, quickly sketching more copies so that he could compare them. His talent was no where near Virgil's but it was clear he had an eye for design.

"I've also signed you up for service with the World Aquanaut Security Patrol next year, after your degree."

"What!" Gordon stopped shading the craft lime green and looked at his father.

"It will be good for you." Jeff huffed. Two out of two sons had responded badly to his plans for them.

"But I've got a place on the Olympic swimming team!"

This time Jeff looked shocked. "And did you plan on telling me that?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Gordon, you may be twenty, but I'm still your father and I like knowing what's going on…"

"Yellow." Gordon interrupted, shifting the conversation, like his father had done earlier. "It should be yellow, with red stripes here and here." He pointed to the picture he'd drawn. Jeff shook his head and collected all his papers together again, along with Gordon's improvisation.

"Right, well, keep in touch."

~X~

A now weary Jeff met a rather energised John on the corner of the street where John lived.

"Hi dad! Biscuit? I've got loads. Book club was pretty dramatic. We were looking at Jane Eyre and it kicked off a real debate because the students who come along are actually studying it, but they counter the views of some of our more established members. Then Mrs Davies got muddled between Darcy and Rochester which sparked things off further." John fumbled to get the key in the lock. "So, what brings you here?" He asked once they were inside.

"I've come to talk about the project." John just nodded. "The boy who's helping me hasn't finished the design for the fifth machine yet, but basically it will be a communications satellite. With your degree in laser communication and your love of astronomy, you'll be the ideal pilot for her. Also I've got you a stint with NASA to try and get you acclimatised to space."

"Really? NASA!"

Jeff laughed tiredly at John's evident delight, and wide eyes. "Yep. I managed to pull some strings and get you in at the last minute."

"Wow." Jeff smiled at the dreamy look on his son's face. "What have the others got?" John finally asked.

"What?" Jeff wasn't sure if John was mocking him or not. As children if one got a present the others usually got something too.

"What sort of ship has Scott got?" It seemed John was seriously talking about the machines.

"Scott will be first on the scene. His craft is a sort of light weight rocket. Virgil will have the freighter, Gordon the underwater craft and Alan, if I can knock some sense into him, will get the rocket so that we can keep in touch with you."

"Wow. Have you told them yet?"

"I've told Scott and Gordon so far." Jeff paused. "John, did you know about Gordon?"

John frowned. "What about him?"

"That he's, well… that way inclined?"

"Oh, what that he's gay? Sure. Vincent is lovely and they actually work really well together."

"Do the others know?"

"Err, I don't think Alan does, but Scott and Virgil do. Gordon told me first." He added, proudly.

"I'm surprised he didn't tell Alan. They were so close when they were little."

"But that's exactly why. Alan looks up to Gordon, but he's such a playboy. He'd never accept it. The funniest thing is how alike Alan and Vincent are – both stubborn and full of energy." John finally noticed the look his father was giving him. "What?"

"Nothing. Just that is quite true of Alan." John smiled. "Well, I should be getting back to Scott's"

"Goodnight dad. Thanks for stopping by." John watched his father go before he texted Scott. _Guess who owes me 10 dollars! ;)_


End file.
